Fire and Folly (Man of Conflict Series Book 3) Read online

  Man of Conflict Series

  BOOK THREE

  Digital edition published in 2016 by

  The Electronic Book Company

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  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this ebook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This ebook contains detailed research material, combined with the author's own subjective opinions, which are open to debate. Any offence caused to persons either living or dead is purely unintentional. Factual references may include or present the author's own interpretation, based on research and study. The cover image is adapted from an original photograph by Loozrboy @ flickr.

  Fire and Folly

  Copyright © 2016 by Andrew Wareham

  All Rights Reserved

  Contents:

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Introduction

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  By the Same Author

  Introduction

  Fire and Folly: Back in England and newly promoted, Septimus Pearce is sent to Ireland to maintain peace between the religious factions. There are fears that the Danish fleet could fall into Napoleon’s hands, so an invasion force including the Hampshires is dispatched to Denmark. Later the Hampshires join General Moore’s expedition to the Iberian Peninsula with the aim of ousting Napoleon’s troops. However, plans unravel and Septimus’ men must fight a desperate rearguard action.

  Author’s Note: I have written and punctuated Fire and Folly in a style reflecting English usage in novels of the period, when typically, sentences were much longer than they are in modern English. Editor’s Note: Andrew’s book was written, produced and edited in the UK where some of the spellings and word usage vary slightly from U.S. English.

  Man of Conflict Series

  BOOK THREE

  Chapter One

  Two East Indiamen tiding their way up Southampton Water, the wind foul, drifting up on the making tide and anchoring at high water. A wait for the better part of four hours until the tide was making again then another six miles of drifting north until they were in sight of their berth and the rowing galleys came out to tow them the last few cables.

  “Fortunate it is Southampton with her double tides, Major Pearce. At any other port we would have been another day at this.”

  The captain of the Indiaman had been extremely polite to Septimus since his men had destroyed the privateer attempting to take them.

  “As a local man, I should have recalled that, Captain Smith – but I had quite forgotten it. It is the influence of the Isle of Wight, is it not?”

  “It is, sir. The first tide sweeps south about the Island and up the Solent; the second has passed to the north, a longer journey, and comes up Spithead a few hours later.”

  “Useful, as you say, sir. Where do you sail next, sir?”

  “Portsmouth, according to my original orders – but they were written a year ago, when I left Rotherhithe. I confidently expect to be sent elsewhere!”

  They entered the River Itchen and then were tied up to the docks, the men collecting in the well of the ship, unable to parade as such for lack of space.

  “Muster by company at dockside, Captain Carter. Permit the men to smoke while our baggage is collected together. I shall, hopefully, discover what is expected of us, presumably at the Harbourmaster’s office.”

  Septimus marched himself down the gangplank and angled towards a gentleman in what appeared to be some form of uniform. He transpired to be a constable, employed to keep the law in the Docks, the nearest thing to a policeman that existed in England.

  “Harbourmaster, sir, his office is by the gates, but, begging your pardon, sir, if you are to wait a few minutes, his deputy will come to you. He will be despatching orders for your wagons and for riding horses first, sir, and a chaise.”

  “Winchester, Major Pearce. A fast despatch runner was sent from Gibraltar when you sailed, sir, came into Portsmouth some days ago, sir. Orders by the Telegraph, sir. The New Foresters was in Winchester but they have been sent to billets along the coast, sir, from Poole to Weymouth, against the French. The battalion will be quartered in the docks here overnight, sir, and will march tomorrow morning, having had time to organise itself. Quartermaster will take the wagons out today, sir, will have all ready when the men come in tomorrow evening.”

  The Harbourmaster’s office was obviously used to handling troop movements. Septimus was impressed and said so, to their gratification.

  “Normal practice is for Officer Commanding to go ahead as well, sir. Second can take the march, sir.”

  Hence the chaise, Septimus realised.

  Cooper and Dinesh, the major-domo’s son, were waiting at his shoulder, had heard the arrangements and set about putting the baggage onto the rear of the chaise while Septimus informed Major Reynolds of what was to be done.

  “Keep them in good order, Major. There is a wall around this part of the docks so they will not be able to get at the booze tonight, and the whores will be kept on the other side. From all I gather, there is a fear of a French invasion, so we may well be marched out of Winchester at any time.”

  Reynolds seemed displeased by the news, said that it placed an obligation on him not to sell out for the while – one could hardly resign one’s commission with the enemy knocking on the door.

  “True, sir. Duty must make the demand.”

  Cooper appeared, said that the chaise was ready and Septimus took the excuse to leave Reynolds to his miseries.

  Four horses made quick work of the thirteen miles along the valley of the Itchen and up to Oliver’s Battery; they were unloading at the house in less than two hours.

  The butler opened the door, definitely more portly for the long absence, made his master welcome as if he had been away for no more than a day.

  “Madame is visiting at Mr George Pearce’s home today, sir. I shall send one of the maids to inform her of your arrival, sir.”

  “No, I’ll stroll round to George’s place myself, Portland. After months aboard ship I could do with stretching my legs. Find a room for Dinesh, if you will be so good. He will act as an indoor man while we are here, accompanying me on service.”

  The butler bowed silently, his master’s word law. He did not need an indoor man, and was not at all sure he wanted any brown gentleman in his domain, but he would not dream of saying so.

  “Will Dinesh act the part of valet, sir?”

  “He would have to learn the care of English clothing, Portland.”

  “That can be arranged, sir, with little difficulty. There is more than one gentleman of advanced years in the locality, sir, whose man has time to spare to bring on a likely young gentleman’s gentleman.”

  “An excellent idea, Portland. See to it, if you would be so good.”

  Septimus wondered what was behind the suggestion – Portland must have made it for a reason. Not to worry, Cooper would soon discover all that was going on and would tell him.

  He glanced in the hall m
irror and squared the shako on his head before walking down the street, looking about him with interest to discover the changes of his years away.

  The walk took no more than ten minutes and in that time he saw three new-built houses and remarkably little else – the pace of life was slow in country towns.

  He knocked at the door of George’s prosperous house, built in the previous century, tall and imposing in red brick, recently re-pointed, he noted, and the woodwork all freshly painted. There were iron railings to the front, taking up a foot or two of what had previously been pavement. It looked very much as if he had expanded, bought up the place to his left and knocked it into the original house. Septimus could see where the one front door had been bricked up and thought that the door he was about to enter was larger, as if the hall behind had been made more imposing. The firm was doing well, it seemed.

  The door opened and a butler in full London garb showed himself, a new addition to George’s staff and awake in his trade. He had never seen Septimus but knew who he must be.

  “Major Pearce! Please to come in, sir! My master is at home, as is my lady.”

  Courtesy demanded that he should make no mention of guests in the house.

  He took Septimus’ shako and laid it carefully on the side table, then opened the reception room door and announced the visitor.

  It was a family gathering, George and Lucasta with their four children; Marianne with her pair, all fit and healthy.

  Cries of surprise and glad greeting from the adults, the children far less certain of the nature of this large, imposing figure in alien scarlet, Amelia suddenly running forward to clasp his hand.

  “It is Uncle Septimus, Papa! He is come home!”

  “At long last, my dear! Brother, you are positively brown!”

  “Well cooked by the Indian sun, George! You look well, and you, ma’am!”

  Greetings made to his hosts he could turn to his wife, took the liberty of clasping her in his arms in public.

  “You look well, my dear! I had not believed your letters, for I knew that you would not have wished to worry me, but my mind is at rest now.”

  “As it should be, my love!” She turned to the children, who knew that their Papa was to come home one day but had little other knowledge or memory of him. “Come and greet your father, my dears!”

  Jonathan was nearly five, a sturdy little boy - not so little, Septimus realised, he was going to make a big man, taking after his father. He extended a hand to his son and heir, gravely shook with him - it was never too early to learn one's manners. He picked him up, held him a moment, somewhat to the boy's discomfort - however much he knew that his father was to come home, he needed to reconcile himself to this huge figure.

  Sarah, his daughter, named for a maternal grandmother, was two years of age and alert and intelligent, stood a pace distant, in case he should attempt to pick her up, which she was not at all sure was a good idea. She dearly loved her cousin Amelia, however, and if she favoured the new gentleman then she was much inclined to do the same.

  "Are you my papa, sir? The soldier man?"

  "I am, my dear. I am come home from India this morning and have come straight to you."

  She was quite impressed, though she had no idea of India.

  "Are you to stay, sir?"

  "I believe so, my dear. We are posted to Winchester and may expect to be here for some few years. We shall all live together in our house."

  She was in favour of that - other people had fathers as well as mothers, or so she understood the case, and was quite pleased that she now had both.

  Septimus turned to Lucasta, sat with her daughter on her lap. The little girl was a few months older than Jonathan and a quizzical smile on her mother's face made him quite sure he was greeting another of his children.

  "You have not met our Elizabeth, brother."

  He made his greetings, smiling in the friendliest fashion, much to his own brother's pleasure. George loved his children dearly and was delighted that Septimus was so taken with the little ones.

  "Are you to seek to purchase a colonelcy now, Septimus?"

  He explained that there might be difficulties in so doing as his own colonel was missing and he was de facto in command of the battalion. The Indiaman he had sailed on had been taken, fortunately while he was aboard the troopship with the bulk of his baggage.

  "I lost only some heavy cases put into the hold - their contents are now unimportant! But Colonel and Mrs Vaughan were both still aboard and are presumed either dead or taken prisoner; we shall not hear which for some time, I suspect. I will undoubtedly be called to Horse Guards within a few days to make my reports in person and to discuss what must be done."

  The carriage arrived for the short journey home where a nurse and her maid appeared and took charge of the children, both of them busily explaining that their Papa was finally come home, such a big man he was. Septimus walked upstairs to his dressing room, changed into easy civilian dress for the first time in many weeks and took Aynscow's mug and brooch and the official silver charger from their wrappings.

  He walked down to the dining room and inspected the furnishings to decide just where the great silver dish must be placed.

  "What say you, Portland? It must be displayed out of courtesy to the givers, but I really do not know where."

  "A magnificent piece, Major... On the side dresser, sir, where the decanters are kept. I shall call the local man, sir, to come to the house and make a stand, sir. Mahogany, I think, to hold it to a near-vertical position so that the inscription may be read easily."

  "I bow to your judgement, Portland. What of the gold mug?"

  "Locked in a cabinet, sir! There must be five hundred guineas weight of gold, sir. In the withdrawing room, sir, safely bolted to the wall in a very solid piece of furniture, sir. So great a temptation to the house-breaking fraternity as this must be!"

  Marianne came into the room, changed for dinner, cried out in amazement at the display of bullion. She read the inscriptions, was most approving - it was rare indeed for mere merchants to think in so right a fashion; Septimus grinned quietly at that.

  "They gave me this as well, my dear, for you."

  "Another ruby!"

  He pointed out the star shining centrally, a pinpoint of light that doubled or tripled the worth of the stone.

  She pinned the brooch to her breast immediately, running into the withdrawing room to stare in the mirror.

  "I so love the gem stones, Septimus! Abrams the jewellers have made up the stones we selected from the package that came into your hands, as well as the first pieces you came across. Mr George Pearce arranged the sale of the other stones and I believe was quite satisfied with the price they fetched and the land he bought for you - but he will tell you of that himself."

  They ate their dinner, played with the children for an hour before their bedtime and then went upstairs themselves, very glad their separation was ended.

  The morning was occupied by the obligatory call upon Marianne's parents at Spring Vale. The Osbornes were delighted that he had returned fit and well and that Marianne was in a case to welcome him - she had been some months regaining her strength, they said.

  "Will you return to India, Major Pearce?"

  "Never, sir. I must expect to be sent overseas again, but not to India a second time. If the need arises I will sell out rather than do so, but that extreme almost certainly can be avoided. It is rare indeed for a regiment to be sent out twice in a man's service - it has happened, but Horse Guards try to avoid the possibility. In part it is because those officers who love India - and there are many who do - will generally transfer to the Company's service rather than come home again. The effect is that it is those who have no wish to serve in India who leave the land - and there is little point to ordering them to go out again for most simply would not. It is a wonderful place, but it is not for me, sir. I am glad to have seen the country, and have learned a little while I was there, and made some slight gains as wel
l, but I am happy to be home again."

  Marianne took this as her cue to display the brooch.

  "A gift from the merchants of Bombay, Papa. As well there is a great silver plate and a mug of solid gold! You will see them when next you dine with us."

  "And a dozen other pieces of jewellery as well, my love!"

  "Yes, Mama - and personal ostentation is a form of vanity that I should not indulge to so great an extent, I believe, ma'am!"

  Septimus carefully did not hear that conversation; a wise man, he had been told, never intervened in any dispute between his wife and her mother.

  "What next, Major Pearce?"

  "I do not know, sir. I must discover that in the next few days."

  "You will not have inspected your new acres yet. I rather envy you the possession of them - but I could not find their cost myself, sir!"

  "My brother had no opportunity to discuss finances with me yesterday, sir. I expect he will tell me of Consols and secured loans and various other matters which I will be quite unable to comprehend!"

  Squire Osborne was able to accept that a soldier could not be a man of business; he was not entirely certain that he approved of so little a head for financial affairs, however.

  "Nearly two hundred and fifty acres of good bottom land, Major Pearce, a little closer into Winchester than we are here even, down by the Itchen and including water meadows. It carries a dairy herd and has its own creamery besides, supplying the city with the great bulk of its milk and butter and cheese. I believe the previous owner was wont to buy in from other farms in the locality to make the butter and cheese and cream demanded. I would be amazed if it were not worth five hundred pounds a year!"

  That was pleasing news - Septimus was more inclined to value his income now that he had children. An inheritance for Jonathan and a portion for little Sarah loomed large in his mind now - he suspected that he might finally be reaching adulthood.